


Bloodier Flowers

by QuintessenceA



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: But he'll be ok...ish, Kid gets shot, Mobsters, Underfell OC Sans, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:50:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintessenceA/pseuds/QuintessenceA
Summary: A fan work of Bloodied Flowers by JennaveveravenstoneThis is just the beginning! Jen has so much story and it's gonna be awesome to play in!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bloodied Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12280281) by [EdwardSerif](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardSerif/pseuds/EdwardSerif). 



"Demon! Back to hell I banish thee!"

Roy Red Piccoli heard Bobby's sarcastic sneer only a moment before he felt something cold and wet being poured over his head. He flinched at the chill, turning around to see a group of three boys laughing behind him with a now empty water cup. 

"Go back to hell, you red eyed freak!" snickered Tony, Bobby's second in command. 

Red just stood there, waiting for them to either attract a teachers attention or simply grow bored. Like usual, it didn't take long.

"Come on guys, let's go before he casts a spell on us," Bobby declared when Red didn't rise to the bait. "Besides, I don't wanna be here when the holy water melts him."

The boys turned and walked away with a few more comments Red couldn't make out. He shook his head with a sigh, water dripping off his short, wavy black hair. He unslung his backpack to check the damage. Just a few wet papers, his school books were fine.

Fortunately, the homework he'd grabbed for Rose were still dry also. She hadn't shown up for school today, and Red planned to bring them by her house this afternoon. 

He looked up when he felt someone step close. The third of the group had returned, a boy named Matt. Red braced himself for more trouble but didn't step back. 

"Why don't you ever fight back?" Matt asked. 

Red shrugged. "What good would it do? It's better to just ignore it and be kind."

"That's stupid," Matt laughed. 

"I don't think so. Bobby and Tony already have things rough. I fugure as long as I'm not in danger I don't really care if they blow off some stream with me."

"What if they hit you?"

Shrugging again, Red answered, "I'd dodge. But my brother believes that they're good people, and I believe in him."

"They're not good people," Matt declared matter of factly.

Red wanted to ask, if that was the case, why did Matt hangout with then? Instead, he told him "It's like my brother says, 'Anyone can be a good person, if they just try.' You should meet him, I bet you'd be great friends."

That caught Matt by surprise. "What, really?"  
Red nodded. "Definitely. He knows you, and I know he'd want you to be his friend. You know my family has that flower shop, right? Piccoli Flowers on 3rd? You should stop by after school."

Matt looked like he was really considering the offer. He opened his mouth, but before he could reply the bell rang. It was like some spell had been broken. Matt stepped away, scowling. "No way, you red eyed weirdo." 

Red almost smiled as Matt spun around and ran down the hall. He knew Matt would come around to kindbess eventually, he just had to give it time.

^^^

*Ding-a-ling!*

The little bell chimed merrily as Red opened the door to Piccoli Florals. The shop was closed, which meant his father wasn't home. and would be until his little brother returned from school.

He headed back towards the cutting tables, looking for his mother. She was there, arranging flowers into boxes, preparing them for delivery. He stepped heavily on the hardwood floor to alert her to his presence.

(Happy you're home!) His mom signed pleasantly, turning as she felt his steps. She taped shut the last box, put it aside and asked, (How was school?)

Her smile was contagious. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up as he answered, (Fine. I think I made a friend.)

His mom beamed. (How nice! We have four deliveries today.) She told him as she turned and passed him a clipboard off the table. 

He read over the list as she watched for his reply. (Wow, Mrs. Nikolai? That's a long way.)

She nodded solemnly, her smile faltering. (I would have your father deliver it but he's doing the flowers for Mr. Rucco's memorial today.)

Red winced. (Did they finally find his body?)

His mom looked away, her face dropping to a frown before responding, (No. They…) She clenched her fist. (They gave up. You be careful today. Mr. Gallo said it's those men from the city causing this trouble.)

Red frowned. She meant the mobsters. They had shown up to their quiet little town of Mt. Ebbot about a month ago. Avoiding the big city cops, as the rumors went. Three people had gone missing since then. He hoped the kind but nosy man from next door, Mr. Gallo, wasn't getting into any trouble himself.

He forced a smile back to his face for his mother. (Not to worry! I'll be fine!)

He gave her a quick hug before gathering up the deliveries. On his way out he grabbed one red rose. Catching his mother's eye, he shifted his burden and signed, (For a friend.) With a wave he was out the door again.

With practiced ease Red strapped the floral boxes (along with the single bloom and Rose's homework) to the rack on his bike and took off down the street. 

It was a quiet day in town, but something didn't feel right. There weren't enough people in the streets,and folk that would usually wave to him as he rode by were strangely subdued. The first three deliveries went quickly enough, but they were spread far enough that Red knew he wasn't going to make it home before dark. 

It was almost sunset, and Rose's house was next on the way to his last delivery. 

Parking his bike on the sidewalk, Red pulled out the rose only to find it had gotten crushed during that last trip. A single petal dropped off to fall lazily to the ground. This was no way to present a gift, Red decided.

Carefully he looked around to see if anyone was watching. There wasn't a soul in sight. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the flower close to his chest, concentrating on the wilted bloom. As he watched, faint luminescent began to rise from the rose, like pale green fog. As he pushed healing magic into the flower it began to perk up, returning it to its full beauty. He could do nothing for the missing petal, it was no longer part of the whole, but soon the rose looked as fresh as if it had been plucked from the bush only a moment ago. 

Smiling to himself, he walked up to the door, papers in one hand, holding the flower behind his back in the other. He rang the doorbell.

A man's deep voice let out a string of curses from somewhere in the house. A few seconds later the door swung open and Red was looking into the angry face of Rose's father.

"Whaddaya want?" The man slurred, red faced and disheveled. 

Red took a step back, showing the papers he'd brought. "I'm looking for Ro-" He didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before the door was slammed in his face. He could still hear as the man started yelling inside.

"Rose! Get your ass down here! The weird eyed freak is here!" The sound of heavy footsteps on a staircase. "What?" Her dad yelled again, "you know I can't understand your damn hand thing when I'm drinking! Just fucking take care of it!"

The door opened again, and Rose stepped out onto the porch with him, frown in place. Rose was a tough, thick built girl that could give any of the school's football players a rough time in a fight. Something she'd proven time and time again, in fact. 

With straight pitch black hair, brown eyes and a stunning self confidence that dared the worlds to take her on, Red thought she was stunning. But he knew that most people had trouble looking past the huge, twisted scar that ran up her neck and across her jaw. Life hadn't been easy for Rose. She reminded him of her namesake, beauty wrapped in thorns. He lived for the days he could make her smile.

She snapped her fingers in his face and he blushed, realizing he'd be caught staring. 

"S- sorry," he stammered, offering the papers. "You weren't in class, so I grabbed your math pages."

She scowled at the papers, obviously not pleased. Then she looked at him, mahogany eyes confidently meeting his ruby ones. That was another thing he like about her, that she never flinched away from his odd eyes. He could list the people who would look him in the eyes on one hand and still have a finger remaining. 

Red had regained some composure as she'd looked at her papers, and with a flourish that he hoped was as grandiose as any royal prince he presented her the flower from behind his back. "And a rose for a Rose."  
Rose gave a tiny gasp, a whisper of sound through her scarred throat. Then she smiled at him.

(Beautiful,) she signed, using one of the words he'd taught her. 

Red didn't know what had caused her scars, and Rose had never told him, but he knew that it was only a few years old and had taken away her ability to speak. Before she'd met Red she had mostly communicated through writing. 

And fists. 

Growing up in a hearing household, she'd never learned sign language. When he'd first been told about Rose and how she didn't speak, he had tried to introduce himself in sign language. She'd thought he was making fun of her and decked him.

Things were better now, but Rose had made it clear that she didn't need him, and wouldn't tolerate being pitied. She impressed him with her determined spirit, and he in turn was determined to be her friend. So he tried to be nice to her, to teach her sign language, to give her flowers. 

Sometimes, like now, she even smiled at him.  
She took the rose from his hand, inhaling the scent it gave. That's when he noticed the hospital band around her wrist.

"R-rose?" he asked, startled. "What's that?"

(I… I…) she started to sign, looking for the words when the door opened suddenly behind her.

"Girl! Get your ass back in the house!" her father roared from the doorway, making both of them jump in surprise. He pointed at Red. Or at least he tried to, his finger waving as if he saw two Reds on the porch and wasn't sure which one he should yell at. "You! Get your ass off my property!" 

Rose glared daggers at her father, but he either didn't notice or didn't care as he went back into the house. Rose made a hand gesture at his back, using a sign the Red certainly hadn't taught her.

He laughed, and gave Rose an apologetic smile when she looked his way. "It's getting pretty late anyway. I'll see you in class tomorrow?" 

She nodded, too quickly, and gave him a quick wave as she hunched her shoulders and darted back inside.

"Good night, Rose," he said quietly to the closed door.  
He walked back to his bike and his final package. 

There were two ways to reach Mrs. Nicolai. He could take the long way using the roads, or he could take a shortcut through the woods near the base of the mountain. He glanced at the sun just ducking down behind the trees, he'd have to hurry. Woods it was.  
The trail through the trees was an old logging road, overgrown but still traversable. 

Red was about a quarter mile down the path when he heard the distinctive sound of a gunshot. Close. He was so startled he gripped the bike brakes reflexively, stopping so short he was nearly thrown over the handlebars. Sure, hunters weren't uncommon in this rural part of the state, but he'd never, NEVER heard of anyone hunting after sunset. 

Quietly, he pulled his bike off the road. His mind screamed that he was being an idiot, that he should just ride away, but his curiosity was strong. Besides, he reasoned with himself, no one would see him between the trees in the failing light.

He didn't have far to go when he heard a man's voice. Crouching low, he looked through a tangle of branches to see a pair of men in three piece suits standing over the hunched form of a third. Blood was dripping from the man's abdomen. The memory of his mother's warning about the mobsters hit him like a brick.

A broken sob came from the man on the ground.  
"We know ya' talked," accused the grey suited mobster as he waved a large gun in front of the man. "Tell us!" 

"Please, please, don't!" he cried. Red threw his hand over his mouth as the man looked up and he realized it was Mr. Gallo, the neighbor that had warned his mother. "I didn't tell anyone about the substance!"

A flash of reflected sunlight drew Red's eye to the second man in black pinstripes. Taller than the first man, he practically exuded authority as he looked at a silver pocketwatch in his hand. 

"Unfortunately for you," he said to Mr. Gallo, his voice dripping with contempt, "I believe you." He shut the watch and slipped it into his pocket, chain glinting. He nodded to the first man.

Grey suit smiled, leveling his gun at Mr. Gallo. Red had never seen a smile like that before, so cruel, so vicious, so… evil. His blood went cold in his veins.

"No, no! No-!" Mr. Gallo's screams cut off abruptly as the sound of a gunshot and a cry rang through the woods.

The mobsters froze, and Red felt his heart seize in his chest as he realized they cry came from him. 

"Boss," whispered Grey Suit, "think we was followed?"

"Course not you nitwit. But we were found," replied Black suit, pointing into the woods. Directly where Red was hiding. "Return the favor."

Paniced, Red leapt to his feet as Grey suit sprinted towards him. His bike! He just had to reach his bike! He ran, faster than he'd ever run in his life, unable to hear the sounds of the men behind him over the pounding of the blood in his ears.

And there it was, like an answered prayer, his bike leaning right against the tree where he'd left it. Red grabbed the handbars, when light suddenly exploded from the back of his head. He toppled forward, catching a glimpse of Grey suit, gun held in his hands like a baseball bat. He dropped over his bike, sending the box of flowers crashing to the ground. It exploded on inpact, scattering roses and baby's breath across the ground. 

Red found himself on his stomach, and tried to stand up. He saw a smudge of grey movement out of the corner of his eye as Grey suit's shoe connected sharply with his ribs, knocking him on his back. His cry of pain turned into a choked grunt as the man's foot returned, pressing down squarely on the middle of Red's chest.

"It's a kid, Boss," Grey suit called. The man's shape seems to blur as Red looked at him through a haze of pain. He tried to push the man's leg away, but couldn't do anything more than grip feebly at the pant leg in front of his face.

"What did you see, boy?" came the cool question as a pair of black shoes stepped up next to his head.

"You- you killed Mr. Gallo!" Red wheezed, struggling just to breathe.

The man just looked at him, completely unfazed by the accusation. Grey suit pressed down harder. 

"He knew the guy, Boss. Think he knows about the RI goo?"

"If he didn't before he will soon enough." He looked at the scattered flowers, bending down to pick up a rose. "What's with the flowers?" 

Red couldn't answer, breath too short to answer even if he'd wanted to. Black suit shrugged as he tucked the rose into the buttonhole on his chest. 

"Kill 'im."

"You got it Boss." Grey suit pointed the gun directly at Red's face, but Red couldn't see anything other than the man's evil smile. There was the crack of sound from the gun, unbearably loud at this distance. A bright flash of pain, and Red's right eye went dark. 

Static filled his mind, ringing through his skull. It hurt, but not as bad as he would have thought. But thoughts were suddenly hard to connect. He could feel blood against the side of his face, the warmth of it distracting him for a moment.

The pressure on his chest relaxed, and Red pulled in a breath. 

There was a laugh from above him. "Ha, 'e's a tough kid, gotta give 'im that."

"Don't play with a broken toy."

Red turned his head slightly, and his remaining eye caught on the blood red rose laying gleaming brilliantly from the man's lapel. Red wondered how it could glow so brightly, wasn't the sun setting? It must be setting, he decided, everything was going dark. 

The was a feel of movement, of gravel sliding across his face. He was being dragged, he realized. No, he can't let that happen, he has to find Rose. The memory of the hospital band around her wrist burned through the fog in his mind, and he clawed his hands against the ground. He had to talk to her, he had to-  
Another gunshot, and another flash of pain, this time between his ribs. He couldn't take full breath, lungs straining.

"…determined, huh?" Red didn't know who said it, but he clutched onto the word with everything he had. He felt himself being lifted, and dropped into something wet.

Determined.

For a moment, the wetness tingled across his body like an electric charge. It felt like his magic, he realized. Then it began to burn.

Determined.

It burned, stars how it burned. He could feel it eating into his skin, his muscles. He opened his mouth to scream, and the burning liquid filled his mouth.

Determined.

Suddenly he was falling, falling, falling. Rocks struck his body as he rolled, sharp nicks of pain that hurt, even through the agony of the substance eating his flesh.

Determined.

He hit the ground with a crash. He didn't know how long he'd fallen, it could have been moments, it could have been days. The smell of flowers filled him as the darkness finally consumed his soul.

De… ter… mined…

Everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws up a chapter* Idek man. I love writing it though.

The last thing Roy Red Piccoli remembered was dying.

So why, he wondered, was the wind howling?

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Static filled his vision with white. He blinked trying to clear them. The vision in his left eye sharpened, the static reforming into billowing snow. His right eye stayed fuzzy. There were the shadowy forms of tall evergreen trees around him, and the sound of running water to one side. He could feel the snow around him, the wind blowing against his body in a way he could only describe as… empty. The snow didn't feel right either, like it wasn't as cold as it should be where it touch him.

He was on his back, and he felt his bones creak as he stirred. It felt like he had ice in his joints. How was he alive? He had been shot-

Like a whipcrack, remembered pain lanced through his ribs and the bone under his right eye. He clapped a hand against his eye. It made a sharp -clack!- sound at the contact, hard surface against hard surface, and pain shot through his face. 

Red sat up in a rush, looking at his hand with his good eye. Or, at least, looking at what was left of his hand. Thin, white jointed bones. He curled his fingers, watching in numb fascination as the finger bones curled towards his palm. He could see through his palm, he realized, and suddenly the wind felt colder. 

He looked through the spaces between the bones that should have been covered with muscles, with skin, down to where his legs sat splayed in front of him. Rising horror filled his mind, burning away the fog of shock as he reached down to touch what appeared to be his bare, exposed femurs. 

It felt like bone against bone on his leg. It didn't hurt. Shouldn't it hurt, he wondered? Slowly, refusing to look, Red brought his other hand up to press against his stomach. His hand passed right through where his stomach should be and kept going until he touched his own spine from the front.

He touched his own spine from the front. 

A high, keening sound filled the area around him as he looked down at his ribs. He had no abdomen, only an empty ribcage. Though the empty chest cavity he could see his bony hand still pressed against his spine. It sounded like a wounded animal was nearby, the whine a desperate plea to end its suffering. It dawned on him that the sound was coming from him. Bones. He was only bones. But… but HOW? He began to scream in earnest, and found he couldn't stop himself.

"H- hey!" cried a thin but insistent voice, the sound shocking him out of his panic for a moment. He looked up to see what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a five foot tall rabbit in a dress and sun hat standing not a dozen feet from him in the snow.

"Are, um, are you alright?" the rabbit asked, wringing its (her?) paws together. Something taut snapped inside Red's mind as he realized, yes, the GIANT RABBIT was talking to him, and he shouted, flailing backwards in the snow. Suddenly the ground disappeared under him, and Red fell backward into water.

The icy water hit him like a sledgehammer, clearing out all the cobwebs in his mind in an instant. He held his breath, struggling to find anything that wasn't water. His hand broke the surface, knuckles brushing against rock. Desperately he grabbed at the edge, dragging his body out to sit on the shore. 

Panting, Red looked up to where the bunny-woman had been. There was no one there. Water dripped from him in a decidedly uncomfortable way. He had, apparently, fallen into a river. Red didn't have the slightest clue where he was, or why it seemed to suddenly be winter. Or, more importantly, why… he…

Bracing himself the best he could, bones shaking, he looked over the edge of the water, trying to catch a glimpse of his reflection. A wide skull stared back at him, a glowing red pupil pulsing brilliantly like a heaetbeat in his left eye. A crack marred the bottom of his right eyesocket, topped by a half moon gap that must have been where the bullet had struck him.

"Fuckin' weird, man," he whispered quietly to himself. He felt, at least in this instance, the cursing was appropriate.

He brought his hand up to explore his ribs, feeling for where the other bullet had struck him. There, just like on his eye, a gap and a crack. He hissed in pain as his fingers ghosted over the mark. Idly, he wondered how it could hurt, as it seemed he no longer had nerve endings to signal pain.

All in all, Red felt a less dead then he believed he should be. 

A chuckle from behind him caused him to whirl around in a panic, almost unseating himself back into the river. 

"My, my. You might want to cover up yourself up, dear boy. You gave Ms. Hutch quite a shock, she's not exactly used to seeing so many bare bones.” 

The voice was gentle, amused. As Red calmed himself back down, he looked up into the smiling face of a skeleton. A pair of glasses were perched mysteriouly over where a nose should be, held up as if by magic. He wore a buttonless labcoat, like a scientist or a doctor, over a deep red button up and a well pressed pair of dark grey slacks. He was tall, and Red knew the man would tower over him even if he hadn't being lying on the ground halfway in a river.

The skeleton reached down, offering Red a hand up. He looked at it warily for a moment, before hesitantly reaching out his own hand. The cool clack of bones was unsettling, but Red was grateful as he was helped to his feet. "Th- thank you," he said, trying to be polite. There was something wrong with his voice, he realized. It was deeper, gruffer than it should be.

"Not to worry, young sir. My name is Dr. Wing Dings Gaster. Are you alright? What is your name?" The skeleton was still smiling, but it was different. The tone was less jovial, more concerned.

"My name?" Red asked, as the skeleton waited, smiling and watching. He gave a half smile of his own as he continued, "Oh, I'm Red. Roy Red Piccoli. I think… I think I died?"

The skeleton's smile faltered. "Died? What do you mean?"

Red scratched the back of his skull absentmindedly. The strangeness of the texture made him cringe, losing any familiarity the gesture held. "Well, it's kinda hard to recall. I was in a hurry because the sun was going down, and there were… suits? And flowers on the ground?" He shook his head, looking at the snow around his feet. "I don't know. But I was shot, I remember that clearly."

The was a sound of a clearing throat as the skeleton man tried to get his attention. His eyes were wide, and Red realized he could see white dots in his sockets, shining like lights. "The sunset? You were on the Surface?"

He said the word surface with too much reverance, like a holy word that must be capitalized. It was just another weird detail of today that caught Red off guard. "Yes…?" It was more question than answer. "Where am I now?"

"My boy, well," he began, hesitating as if the answer should be obvious, "you're in the Underground."

Red's eyes immediately shot upwards. The snow had tapered off, giving him a clear view to the dark clouds overhead. No… he realized. Not clouds, a rocky ceiling. Here and there he could see the pointy tips of stalagtites reaching downwards.

Red felt the ground rushing up to meet him, and he sat down heavily. Kneeling down next to him, the skeleton put a hand on his shoulder, eyeing him skeptically. "You are not a regular monster, are you?"

"What? I'm not a monster. We're underground?" He couldn't stop staring upwards. It was as if he were in a huge cave, so large that he couldn't see any walls, the ceiling disappearing into darkness in all directions. 

"If I may?" The man asked, making a gesture towards Red's chest. When Red just looked at him, confused, he continued, "I have a theory, may I see your Soul?" 

A dozen thoughts flickered through Red's mind. Soul? Like a ghost? An aura? Was this well dressed gentleman going to eat his soul? Was this St Peter here to judge his soul? 

When Red didn't answer, unable to find the words, the man hummed thoughtfully. 

"The fact that you don't seem to understand what I'm asking is almost confirmation enough. I'm going to summon your Soul for you, don't be alarmed. I will not hurt you." 

By the time Red had processed the words the man was moving again. He placed his palm flat against Red's chest, and as he pulled it away Red felt something inside him follow the movement. Something began to glow in his chest, green and red lighting up around his bones.

He startled for a moment, knowing with certainty that his chest cavity had been empty when he had looked before. The glow slid around his sternum, pulled by the man's hand. He recognized it now, it looked like his magic, like the phosphorescent mist that always appeared when he used magic. Only now it there were ribbons of red sliding through the glow as well.

It continued to flow out of him, pooling together just in front of him and taking the shape of a heart. There it remained, solidifying until a green and red heart sat floating just in front of him. His soul.

Softly it pulsed light, almost like a heartbeat. It was soothing to watch, and Red felt himself calming down as he stared into its glowing depths.

"As I suspected," came the skeleton's voice again, and Red's soul gave a startled pulse of light as Red flinched. He sounded pleased, like he'd just solved a particularly obscure riddle. "You used to be a human."

Red could only stare his Soul, hovering in front of him, the past tense use of the man's words echoing through his head. A far away part of him wondered at the lack of reaction to what should to be the biggest bombshell dropped on him yet. His good eye went blurry, smudging the world around him and dimming his view of the soul.

The skeleton was saying something to him, but Red couldn't focus on the words. The hand on his shoulder shook him slightly before lifting away, only to be replaced by something warm draped against him. He blinked, coming back to himself a little as he felt the labcoat being wrapped around him. There wasn't anything but snow in front of him now.

"…suppose you'll have to come with me," he caught the tail end of what the skeleton was saying. Suddenly he was being lifted back to his feet.

"Wha-? Wait! Where's my Soul?" Red cried out, looking around frantically as he tried to break free of the man's grip.

"Hold on now! Roy, was it?" The man gripped him tightly, much more tightly that Red thought he should be able to without any actual muscles. When Red stopped fighting he went on, "Good. Your Soul is fine, it returned to you. Feel for it."

Not understanding, but frantic for the reassurance Red tried to focus on his Soul. He felt it, green and red as light flared up again from under his ribs. Safe, it was safe. 

"Better?"

"Y- yeah, thanks," he replied, shakier than he would have liked. Wrapping the long coat more tightly around himself he remembered the comment about showing too many bones. Embarrassment flooded him as he realized he'd naked the whole time. "And thanks for the coat Dr, uh, Wings?"

The skeleton blinked in surprise, amusement returning to his face once more. "Wing Dings, actually, but you may call me Wings if you'd like. I can't help but feel it holds a certain charm. And you are Roy? A pleasure to meet you, although I daresay different circumstances might have been preferable."

"No kidding," agreed Red, "and call me Red, everone does."

"Grand, both of us shall have nicknames! Come on, Red, we should get moving. My son will be waiting for us at home by now."

"Us?" He asked, feeling as if he'd missed a vital part of the conversation.

"Of course," said Wings, gently pulling Red into a walk, "I can't leave you out here in the snow."

They walked in silence for a few minutes as Wings led him through the forest. The terrain was uneven under the snow, and Red frequently stumbled as he kicked hidden rocks with his bare toes. The cold of the snow didn't bother him, but the rocks were painful. He was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other that it came as a surprise when Wings stopped him with a hand, declaring, "Here we are. Home sweet home."


End file.
